Tag: spain

In the early 1980s, when José and Gloria Ferrer first laid eyes on the Carneros land that would become Gloria Ferrer Caves & Vineyards, there was not a single Sparkling wine house in the region. But the low rolling hills, swept by breezes from San Pablo Bay spoke to José, who had longed to fulfill his father’s dream of expanding the Spanish family’s tradition of producing exceptional Sparkling wine to the United States. Dating back to the 1500s, the Ferrers are the family behind Freixenet, the world’s largest producer of méthode champenoise Sparkling wines.

In order to appreciate the good things in life, you have to experience the bad. In order to enjoy the highs, you have to endure the lows. Five months in and we’ve had our highs and lows, our good days as well as our bad.

We’ve had unexpected incidences that have thrown us off course for a day or more. Like the day that I arrived to open AlteArte, only to be met with a funny smell when I opened the door. Heading upstairs to the stock room, I was alarmed to find liquid on the floor at the entrance. My alarm turned to horror when I opened the door only to be greeted by a floor of broken bottles.

The great thing about Altea, Spain is that it’s so small that you see the same people again and again. Those familiar faces become comforting faces, and before you know it, they have become your friends. The difficult thing about Altea is that it can be transient at times, especially when the art university lets out for the school year and the students leave—some just for the summer but others for good.

For the past several weeks, we’ve been saying goodbye as one by one the students disperse. It started with Aga.

I have a problem with money. My problem, though, is not that I’m reckless with it, that I go on shopping sprees or that I spend beyond my means. On the contrary, I hate gambling, I could care less about shopping, and I only use credit cards to collect points—which I later trade in for cash. My problem with money is not that I spend too much, my problem is that I have don't like to spend any at all.

I don’t know how or when I became so painstakingly conscious of money. Growing up, I had everything that I wanted or needed, so if anything, I should have grown up to value each dollar less.

When I turned 18, my sister surprised me with a white water rafting expedition. In honor of my birthday, my parents, brother, sister and I all piled into the six-person raft and hoped for tame waters. Nature didn’t quite obey my wish and barely had we hit the first rapid when everyone was thrown into the water except for the guide, my mom and me.

For my 30th, my sister once again planned a surprise outing. That year, we set out for a 4-hour horseback ride high up into the mountains north of Santa Barbara, CA.

When I was 7 years old, I went to summer camp. It was only for a week and it should have been fun, but ended up being one of the most traumatic experiences of my life because I missed my family dearly. My homesickness was so intense that I cried constantly—walking to the lunchroom between activities, before going to bed—and I look back now and wonder how in the world no one took pity on me.

During that week-that-felt-like-a-year, the only bright spot of each day was after lunch when we’d stand around in a circle for mail delivery. My parents wrote me religiously

When David and I first opened AlteArte’s doors for business, we didn’t care who came through the door—we just hoped for customers. As long as there were people, we’d be happy, we assumed. However, two months in—after several visits from the police and even an incident of theft—we’ve already learned an important lesson: not every customer is a good one to have.

The first Thursday that the students came out in droves, we felt fortunate that AlteArte was their destination of choice and we welcomed their business and even offered a discount on the shots to encourage them to stay.